


Cabin

by Silent_So_Long



Category: Rammstein
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-30 06:29:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1015291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paul and Richard find a way of spending some time while taking shelter at an empty holiday home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cabin

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the following words selected by an online Random Word Generator - smoke, plate, merit, novel, cabin, table, evening.

The evening drew in, sending tendrils of darkness across the sky to claim the last of the sunlight, as clouds moved in from the horizon. A chill was in the air, and breezes battered against the walls; stray curls of cold air drifted in between the cracks in the walls and the window-frames and beneath the cabin door. Richard was glad for the fire nearby, which sent its cosy red warmth popping and crackling across his body as he pulled the blanket a little closer around himself. Only his hands and forearms peeked out from beneath the fuzzy warmth of the blanket, as long fingers flipped the pages in the current novel he was reading; his eyes slowly scanned each page as he drank in and savoured every word. A cigarette dangled from his lips, wreathing his face with smoke as he slowly puffed away. 

Richard shifted in his seat, as sudden cramp claimed his left leg; the chair scraped a little against the floor as he moved and the table he was leaning on creaked beneath the transference of his weight. The wind outside grew stronger still, and it battered and whistled against the walls, sending ghostly moans skittering through the air. Richard snuggled a little further into his blanket, gaze rising finally from his novel to stare blankly at the window. 

His thoughts still rested upon the book in his hands, thoughts taking in the merits of the storyline; every night when he went to sleep one aspect of the plot played upon his mind and sent visions of dragons, knights and elves skittering across his dreamscapes. It wasn’t very often that a book stayed long enough within his consciousness to follow him into sleep; even though the book proved to be a powerfully good one, Richard knew that he had little choice but to read it at the moment. Both he and Paul had been left stranded by a broken down rental car in the wilderness whilst making their way from that day‘s video shoot to their hotel, leaving them no choice but to find shelter from the winter chill outside. Paul had left his cell-phone back at the hotel, whilst Richard’s own was completely flat; phone calls for help were completely out of the question. 

It had been Paul that had first found the cabin, sharp eyes picking out the wonky wooden roof in amongst the trees; despite his concerns over angry inhabitants, Richard had been glad of the shelter. His concerns proved groundless, however; the cabin was empty, although it hadn’t been for long. That it was someone’s holiday retreat was obvious, and Paul, in particular, had been overjoyed by the sight of packaged and canned food hidden in the cupboards, coupled with instant coffee and tea bags. They both forgave the cabin’s owners their lack of beer if it meant they could have a decent meal in the morning. Paul had promised him that they would try to flag down a passing car in the morning, to return to the film set if help didn’t arrive soon enough.

Richard blinked back to reality, cigarette long since burnt down to ashes, when he heard movement coming from behind him; Paul was returning from the small kitchen area of the cabin. The other guitarist was swaddled in layers of clothing, eyes sleepy and heavy lidded from a long day. Richard had to hide the smile that threatened to break upon his face; sometimes, when Paul looked tired, he reminded Richard of a sleepy owlet. 

“Here, I heated up your pancakes, just the way you like them,” Paul said, through a mouth filled with yawns and pancakes, even as he settled the plate before Richard. 

Richard sniffed appreciatively; the aroma of batter fresh and warm from the microwave assailed his senses, coupled with the sweet scent of maple syrup and the crispier scent of freshly cooked bacon. 

“Vielen dank,” Richard murmured, Paul’s sleepiness catching a hold of him now; a yawn stretched his mouth wide and his eyes momentarily closed with the force of it.

Paul smiled and sat upon Richard’s lap with a slight thump; he was heavier than he looked and Richard could attest to that even before the other man had dumped himself into his lap. Still, though, he wrapped the blanket around them both, even as he made the required complaints that Paul seemed to expect about guitarists all being heavy lumps. Paul grinned and snuggled a little further against Richard, placing cold hands against Richard's neck; he took the sting away from the coldness by placing warming kisses against Richard’s neck. Richard hissed at both sensations, tilting his head to the side when Paul started kissing him, eyes closing as Paul was afforded better access to him. 

Paul felt Richard’s hands upon his back, and their comforting weight was warm against his chill body, despite his clothing. He worked on sucking bruises into the other man’s neck, lips and teeth worrying at willing flesh, before tongue and lips eased out the sting of loving nips. Richard sighed, chest rising and falling against Paul’s own and the sound that issued forth from the other man’s mouth was one of contentment. 

Paul lifted one hand and rested it against the back of Richard’s neck, threading his fingers through the other man’s hair and feeling the creases in Richard’s skin from where his head was tilted. He traced kisses against Richard’s jaw and felt the slight stubble of a day’s growth against his lips. He liked the sting and burn of it against him as he traced his way to Richard’s mouth, smiling as Richard moved first, and pressed hot kisses against his mouth. 

“Keep this up, Reesh, and we’ll have to move to the bed,” he murmured, between kisses.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Richard murmured back, words vibrating against Paul as he pressed a swift, almost chaste kiss against his cheek.

Paul grinned at him in the way that Richard always liked, all cheeky smiles and fine crinkles around his eyes. 

“I’m serious,” Paul said, despite his grin.

“So am I,” Richard murmured, tracing possessive patterns against Paul’s back. “It’ll be markedly warmer than here, at least.”

“Our, um, activities will make us warmer still, I can promise you that,” Paul said, even as he wriggled out from beneath the blanket. 

He immediately missed the warmth of the other man against him, trapped between the wrapped confines of a soft blanket. Richard made a noise of agreement, dark haired head dipping in a slight nod, before he, too, stood. Unlike Paul, he kept the warm embrace of the blanket around his shoulders, as he followed the other man to the bed, where they settled beneath the blankets in a welter of tangled limbs and pawing hands and hot, uncoordinated lips. Neither man cared, however; each movement soon smoothed out as they found better positions, mouths found and closed together in a tight line and Paul could feel the heated line of Richard‘s arousal against his thigh. Paul settled more comfortably against the other man, enjoying the heat on the other’s skin as he nuzzled against Richard’s neck. He breathed in every last scent of him, smile curling his lips as his eyes shuttered closed with contentment. He could feel Richard dropping kisses upon his lips, little pecks that did not wipe the smile from them; instead, it made the smile grow wider still, wider yet when Richard pushed him onto his back, warm body following soon after. 

Richard stroked his hands over Paul’s body, feeling the pliancy, the willingness, the supplication in every limb, every kiss, every secret glance as Paul arched into him. Richard allowed himself to smile, the first he’d truly given since they’d arrived at the cabin earlier in the afternoon. 

He made short work of preparing Paul, fingers cold from the short walk to Paul’s abandoned bag across the room to get the lube, bodies soon warming as blankets curled around them. Paul’s hands were a welcome weight against Richard’s back as their bodies joined together, eyes drifting closed to shutter eyelashes against Richard’s shoulder, tickling as Paul’s cries muffled themselves against Richard’s arm. Despite the muffled cries, Richard could still hear Paul‘s arousal, body arching up against his, fingers digging into him as Paul’s climax claimed him, cries falling away from Richard’s arm now to hit against the cool air. 

Paul felt his climax leave him, splashing out over them both; Richard was quieter when he came, small whimpers of Paul’s name half buried against the crook of his neck. Paul held him through it, hands soothing and smoothing against the other man’s back; he protested the loss of the other man’s warmth when Richard slowly eased away, even though Richard did not move very far. Paul closed the distance between them to burrow in against the other man’s side; he could feel the steady beat of Richard’s heart beneath his palm when he rested his hand against the other man’s chest. Neither man spoke; instead, Richard tucked the blankets more securely around them. Paul mumbled out a sleepy thank you, and fell asleep before Richard could reply. 

Richard lay awake for quite some time, thoughts drifting lazily over nothing much at all; he still could feel a pleasant and sated glow settled deep inside him. He turned his head slightly, kissed the end of the sleeping Paul’s nose, yet the other man did not stir; instead, Paul slept on, breaths huffing rhythmically against Richard’s skin, eyes closed, the curve of his eyelashes flattened against his cheeks. He looked younger whilst asleep, Richard always thought, somehow more vulnerable and the way that his hand curled defensively against Richard’s chest as though in fear of losing Richard spoke volumes of how much Paul trusted him. 

Richard dropped another kiss against Paul’s mouth that time, and hoped that the other man would be aware of it in his dreams; it was only when he caught the stray taste of pancakes on the other man’s lips that he realised that he had left his own meal uneaten upon the table. He sighed, too comfortable, too warm and sated to bother getting up to retrieve them. A wicked grin crossed his face at his sudden, unbidden thought; as soon as Paul woke again, he knew that he would ask Paul to reheat some fresh pancakes, regardless of whether he actually wanted to or not.


End file.
